


Costume Changes

by Cuzosu



Series: Wolves and Losers [4]
Category: Iskryne Series - Elizabeth Bear & Sarah Monette, The Losers (2010), The Losers (Comic)
Genre: Alcohol, Costumes, Cougar has less shame than Jensen does, Drunken Shenanigans, Halloween, Jensen has no shame, M/M, Racism, Secondhand embarrassment, Sexual Humor, Team as Family, sexual innuendo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:33:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27925342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cuzosu/pseuds/Cuzosu
Summary: The wolves, at least, are smart enough to avoid a Losers team bar crawl. They lose less dignity that way.
Relationships: Carlos "Cougar" Alvarez/Jake Jensen, Jolene/Linwood "Pooch" Porteous
Series: Wolves and Losers [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2044669
Comments: 2
Kudos: 43





	Costume Changes

**Author's Note:**

> After the Young Frankenstein reference, an idea hit me for Robin Hood: Men in Tights. Fei enabled more. A Losers Halloween bar crawl happened. I have no regrets. 
> 
> Well, no. I have one regret: that I could not have Clay thrown in jail with the other two who ended up there _and_ have him end up where he actually did. It would have come across much less racist, but cops are cops, and Clay has a thing for hookups in canon. Besides, one of the two who ended up in the drunk tank was there to keep the other one from murdering anyone.

“All I'm sayin' is, you should totally go with us this Halloween.” Cougar's raised brow prompted Jensen to continue, much to the dismay of CO and XO alike. “See, Jessie wants to be Maid Marian this year, so I was thinking we could be—”

The sniper sighed and shook his head. “I will talk to her, amigo. And we'll see, si?”

Jensen flailed mentally, trying to adjust since he'd intended to ramble on until his friend agreed. Still, he supposed Jessie could talk the man around; she had them both wrapped around her finger, much to her mother's amusement.

If he'd known Cougar intended to talk Jessie into teaming up on HIM, Jake would have been more wary. Unfortunately for the big blond, that discovery came three days too late—and the entire team got dragged into it, along with Jolene and Jackie.

“I thought I was your favorite uncle,” came the plaintive whine.

“You're the only the costume will fit, Uncle Jake,” she reasoned.

“What if we take it in to get the size adjusted for Cougar or—or Clay!” It was a desperate attempt and doomed to fail.

Clay gave his tech a black look and stated shortly, “No.”

Cougar's expression was half amused and half irritated, the kind that meant if Jake didn't start cooperating soon, he was going to make him...one way or another.

“Just do it with grace, Uncle Jake,” Jessie sighed, “because there really isn't any way out of it.” They'd waited until the day of to spring it on him, so he actually was stuck with it.

Jackie, being the evil sister no one ever seemed to believe she really was, threw her weight behind Jessie with a gleefully mocking air. “Yeah, Jake, do it with grace—or we'll have to get creative.” Her eyes gleamed with an unholy light, which apparently only Jake could see.

Jolene snorted, but it was Roque who said, “I don't know about grace; have you seen how uncoordinated he is? But he'd get points if he'd just realize this is a lose-lose situation, even for a born Loser.”

While Jensen glared at the XO, Pooch pitched in his two cents. “We're getting off topic. The thing is, we got a Prince John costume in Jay's size and a King Richard costume in Clay's, and when it comes to who wears what, well, we got the damn costumes in those respective sizes because we wanted to be as historically accurate as we can.”

No words came from Jake, but the pack sense rang with a clear call of bullshit; Cougar was glad of his poker face.

After a minute of letting everyone absorb the conversation, Jolene drawled, “That's your story and you're sticking to it, huh?”

Pooch spluttered incoherently at his wife.

“Si,” smirked the sniper.

“The point,” Roque rumbled, fingering the hilt of a knife, “is that he's wearing the damn costume. One way or another.”

That, at least, got Jake's attention. “And what is this version of 'or else' being used against me?” Blue eyes glared indiscriminately at his teammates and sister, but Jessie got a look of wounded betrayal.

“You won't do it for me?” Jessie begged piteously.

Glares were leveled at the tech from all around.

“Gonna let your niece down, man?”

“That's low, asshole.”

“How can you resist that face?”

“Cold, Jake. So cold.”

Cougar almost felt bad at how well and truly cornered his friend was—except the blond was still looking for an out. So he went for a low blow. To Donna, he sent a confused,  _ Ozone and burnt fur and puppies doesn't play with puppies? _

It took the queen bitch only a moment to make Jensen cave; she came at him with a flood of confusion, hurt and worry, demanding to know why he wasn't playing with his sister's pup.

Jake's face scrunched up even as the pack sense caught a wave of,  _ Okay, fine, playing. Pack wins. _ Then he graced the sniper with a black look. “You cheating bastard.”

Payback was probably going to be a bitch, but for the time being, Cougar was damned well going to enjoy a victory well earned. Anyway, he had treats stashed away so he could start repaying the blond when they all got back. It would at least lessen the ire.

As it turned out, he should have worried more about Jackie than Jake; Clay and Roque started drinking as they escorted Jessie while she trick or treated. Jolene had claimed a need for a Mom's Night Out and absconded with the other mother, since her own daughters were spending the time with their uncle and grandparents.

Somehow, after dropping Jessie off at home in bed, with Jackie and Jolene returned and ready to sleep while the guys wound down, 'winding down' turned into a Losers holiday bar crawl. Cougar and Jensen were the most sober of the lot—not like that said much—and, in the finest of Loser traditions, took merciless advantage of their teammates' drunken weakness and inattention.

Jake, once he realized none of them had removed their costumes before going drinking, decided everyone had to be as unhappy with their Halloween-wear as he was. Then, putting his thoughts into action, he coerced the sniper into active cooperation with his plan. Guilt probably had something to do with his success, but, regardless, the end result was five born Losers decked out like the cast of Robin Hood: Men In Tights. The commentary from Clay and Roque in the morning would be epic—and hopefully one of the ladies would record it for posterity.

After Donna was snuggled and slobbered on by her drunken brother, she lost any interest in hanging around until they sobered up. Sangre seemed to know he'd be the next target if he didn't make himself scarce as well, so both wolves took their leave and returned to Jackie's house. And if they scared the ever-loving hell out of her dog when they jumped the fence and squeezed in through the doggy door, at least it had the sense to let them be.

Between the amusement factor and the sheer quantity—and quality—of liquor the Losers had knocked back, it was a miracle that they managed to drink at another two bars before the group dispersed. Clay headed one way, intent on finding another of his crazy hookups. Pooch tugged Roque in what he swore was the direction of the house; Roque, drunk enough to trust his inebriated teammate despite all the liquor consumption, followed. Jensen tried to climb up a building and train on the rooftops, but Cougar distracted him with a well-timed remark about not wanting to see him end up like Humpty Dumpty and they wandered off to find other entertainment.

Jackie woke on November first and was gratified to see her daughter sleeping soundly in bed. Her brother, unfortunately, was another matter. Worried they'd been called back at short notice, she searched the house from top to bottom and found the team's bags but no team. When Jolene joined her in the kitchen, she shared her concern.

Jolene blinked, then sighed and rubbed her temples. “Oh, my god,” she muttered. “I'm going to kill Linwood if we have to pay damages over another holiday bar crawl.”

It was the blonde's turn to blink. “Halloween counts as enough of a holiday for a team bar crawl?”

“Well, they're not here and their bags aren't missing, so I don't know what else it could be,” Jolene admitted.

Just then the phone rang. Jackie answered, but the caller was definitely not who she was expecting.

“Need a ride,” growled Roque.

“Okay,” she agreed, puzzled. “Where are you?”

He muttered something unintelligible, then was asked to repeat it. “County lockup,” he snapped.

It was lucky for him that she knew he wasn't mad at her. “Alright. How many of you are we picking up?”

“Me 'n' Pooch,” was his disgusted growl.

They hung up shortly after and, since neither had the vaguest notion where the rest of the team might be, both women went out to pick up two of their miscreant Losers. What they found upon arrival would have been astonishing and disturbing—if they hadn't long since become accustomed to Loser-style antics and drunken shenanigans.

Jackie took one look and doubled over with laughter. Jolene tried and failed to wipe the smile from her lips. Pooch, judging by his expression, had a hangover but was powering through it. Roque was glaring so ferociously he'd frightened all the remaining Halloween drinkers present to the other side of the cell.

“Let's get them out of here so the scarred fellow quits scaring all the other temporary inmates,” was the officer's comment as he unlocked the cell.

“It's not that bad,” Pooch assured everyone with the certainty of someone still drunk enough from the night before to not feel all the pain he ought to be in. “Can you imagine if Jensen was in here?”

Both women snorted, Jackie laughing harder. “Oh, god, if Jake was here he'd be leading everyone in some crazy serenade, and if we were lucky it wouldn't be about Roque.”

Roque made a noise that was half snort and half groan, gingerly resting his head in his hands. “I want to kill him already anyway; he'd be doing CAPE for a fuckin' year if I had to deal with him here, too.”

“Part of the Jensen charm,” Jackie giggled. “Though Cougar gets points, too, as I happen to know he's done some aiding and abetting and never been caught yet.”

“That's 'cause he's a sneaky fucker,” Pooch told the room, solemn as only a drunk person could be.

“Speaking of the sneaky one, I wonder where he and my brother ended up this time...?”

“Don't forget Clay,” was Jolene's reminder. “We haven't seen him yet, either.”

Jake woke to find himself facedown in the mud, half in and half out of the doghouse, hungover and positive something best unnamed had died and was rotting in his mouth, with his sister laughing her ass off and Jolene videotaping it all. He groaned and shifted, pushed up on his elbows and dropped his face into his hands. "MotherFUCKER," came the mumbled swearing. "Cougs, what the hell did you talk me into last night?"

If he'd realized the sniper was sleeping off the night before on a tree limb above him, Jensen might have been more reluctant to wake the other man. As it was, the combination of alcohol-related aftereffects and stretching awake on a tree branch took a heavy toll—on Cougar's balance, certainly, but primarily on Jake, who, instead of making it to his feet as intended, found himself suddenly flattened by his falling teammate and facedown in mud once more.

"Mierda," was the sniper's first groaning comment. "Lo siento," was the second.

Neither of which made it to the camcorder's audio, since Jackie was doubled over, dying of laughter, and even the more somber Jolene was so amused she ought to have set up the tripod.

Jessie came out, drawn by curiosity, and asked, "So are you buying the costume or keeping it another day and getting it cleaned?"

Cougar and Jake traded silent examinations of each other's costumes. "Nope, I think it's a lost cause," sighed the blond, while the sniper shook his head. "Guess we're paying for them. This was NOT how I intended the night to end."

"It's morning," Jolene informed him helpfully, a twinkle in her eyes.

"Thanks," he drawled, because sass was the last thing he needed thrown at him right then.

"You're absolutely welcome," she returned gleefully. "Especially if I get more mornings after like this on tape!"

Cougar muttered something uncomplimentary under his breath about walks of shame, then swung himself back up into the tree like he wasn't still intoxicated. As they all watched him stride over branches like they were sidewalks on his way to the second story window he'd left open, Jake admitted, "I will never understand how he can still move that well drunk. The rest of us all trip over our own feet, each other, chair legs, air... and he can fucking disarm bombs when he's been drinking." He'd know; he'd talked the other man through it. Clay's taste in women was terrible.

"My hungover self will nail your ass to that dog house with knives if you don't quit ogling his ass from below," growled Roque.

"Point," conceded the blond. "You have spec-fucking-tacular aim even drunk, until you're drunk off your ass and can't see straight. But he can still move like that when he's seeing quadruple; I've checked. It's kinda creepy and really, really hot."

"And you have no brain to mouth filter," Jolene noted, amused.

"Ever," seconded his sister.

"Ganging up on me? Not fair," Jensen sulked. Was he the only one who saw how utterly breathtaking the sniper was? Apart from the overabundant women and occasional random men who hit on him, of course. Fine, Jake knew when to rephrase something: Was he the only one on the team who saw Cougar's sex appeal as, well, appealing? And, while he was thinking about said teammate's sex appeal, that time the sniper was sent in to distract an Italian model because Roque decreed her too much Clay's type—volatile, meaning almost as prone to violence as any of the Losers—and she'd tripped just as she laid eyes on him and been knocked out cold in the fall, leaving the team bemused, relieved, and wondering if maybe Cougar ought to be their go-to for seductive distractions. Clay had nixed that idea, possibly out of jealousy.

Jensen's inner monologue was interrupted by a discreet,  _ Waiting, curious,  _ and the image of both wolves and sniper piled together and eyeing the empty space that belonged to the hacker. From the window to the room they always shared, Cougar called down, "If you're sleeping it off out there, I'll throw down your pillow." Suitable imagery followed of Donna landing on her wolfbrother.

Jake threw a glance at the mud, hollered back, "I'm coming, I'm coming. Keep your pants on. Or don't, I don't mind."

Roque wondered why DADT always seemed non-existent when liquor was involved, just in time to hear Cougar's retort that Jake had better not be coming in public or his sister would never let him hear the end of it. "Fucking sniper," growled the XO. "Did NOT need to hear that." He rubbed his scar, feeling no small amount of aggravation.

As Jake shut the door behind him, Jackie turned to her daughter and said, "Remember: a lot of things your uncles say are not appropriate for public use."

"Even though they say them in public anyway?"

"They have no sense of shame."

Jolene broke down in giggles, gasping out, "I've had almost the exact same conversation," before dissolving into hilarity again.

Unfortunately for any hopes Jensen had as he stumbled up the stairs, Roque's phone beeped with an incoming message. It read, "Need rescue. Bring Cougar." The XO rolled his eyes. "Cancel your plans!" he bellowed at the open window. "Cougar's with me to fetch Clay."

In the end, Pooch stayed behind to sleep off his hangover and everyone else piled into two vehicles to rescue Clay. Sadly for the sake of Clay's dignity, Jackie and Jolene brought the camcorder and extra batteries, just in case.

Following the directions Jensen gave to the GPS chip in Clay's phone, which was obviously still with him, since he'd texted for help, they pulled up in front of college dorms.

"He's...having problems with coeds?" Jackie was trying valiantly not to laugh. It was an uphill battle.

Roque's expression indicated serious doubts as to his leader's sanity. Still, he led the way. It was Jensen, however, who knocked.

"Hi," he began, grinning at the woman who answered the door. "Believe it or not, we three guys—and the wolves—are here to fetch our CO. The ladies are family and probably want to get more embarrassing footage, but, hey, he sent a text claiming he's in need of rescue, so now he's fair game."

"And you weren't?" his sister asked pointedly.

"I was with Cougs!" Jake defended. "He even got us home! We just...didn't go inside. Not sure why." He looked baffled.

Donna pushed inside, ignoring the distracted humans, and followed the scent trail to a door on the fifth floor. What they found inside had everyone laughing hysterically: Clay had apparently swapped his costume for a male cheerleading outfit at some point during the night and was now bewildered and trying—and failing—to convince three drunk cheerleaders not to do stunts then and there. He was so focused on their safety that he completely overlooked the camcorder.

Cougar seemed to understand what needed to be done, Jensen managed to find out what time the ladies needed to be functional, and the sniper used pressure points to knock them out safely. Clay wasn't the only one grateful; two roommates showed up to take the trio to their beds, one at a time, and they were back in the cars, the wolves running back, before Jake broke down and giggled.

_ Cornered by pom-poms,  _ he snickered through the pack sense.  _ Clay can't fight his way out of fluff! _ Cougar smirked, but the wolves caught the tail end of that thought and expressed their distaste of fighting fluff, complete with the sensations of  _ fur stuck to tongue _ and  _ teeth dulled by fuzz, have to dunk muzzle in stream. _ The kicker, though, was the offended bit from Donna:  _ Not cats to like fluff and fuzz. _

_ Not cats, _ agreed Sangre,  _ but fond of cats. _ A sense of puzzlement from the brindle female. He helpfully explained how Cougar was a cat, then shared memories of playing with actual felines—including, on one memorable occasion, a leopard.

"Wait, wait, wait," was Jensen's response, so startled he spoke aloud instead of using the pack sense. "Now I have to hear that story."

"What story?" Jolene wondered, casting a puzzled glance back. Clay, Roque, and Jessie were in Jackie's car, so it was just the three adults—and neither Jolene nor Jake would tattle if Cougar was a bit more talkative than usual.

"Spill, Cougs," Jake pushed. "I want to know the story behind Sangre's memory of playing with a leopard."

"Leopard? And I thought Linwood was joking about being the sane one on the team." The telepathy thing all wolf-bonded but especially these two had going on was a little—okay, a lot—strange to outsiders.

Jake opened his mouth to rebut her statement, only to say, "Well, Roque has his knife obsession and it kinda looks like a love affair from the outside; Clay has terrible taste in women and some of them have even come after the team over his behavior; Cougs has the worst nightmares and can terrify even Roque, but is usually the gentlest of us—"

"And you talk too much about everything and flirt with computers when you hack," finished the sniper.

"Yeah, Pooch's road rage is really a mild thing compared to the rest of us," agreed Jensen.

Jolene snorted. "Anyway, sorry for dragging you off on a tangent. Now, what about the leopard?"

The sniper grinned under his hat. "She was pregnant. Hard to hunt, si? Sangre wanted to help." Through the pack sense, Jake caught,  _ Tag team hunting with pregnant leopard. When she figured out what we were doing, she came to our tent on the edge of camp and chuffed to get our attention, was affectionate when we came out, rubbing against us, playing with sheathed claws.... Had to chase our team away from her when they realized she was there. They thought we were crazy. _

Jake couldn't stand the bewildered loneliness he felt from the other man, sent back,  _ Not crazy. Fun. Scary sometimes, but fun. _

Donna must have caught something through the pack sense, too, because she reiterated her previous, cheerful,  _ Gunpowder and leather and iron playing with puppies. _

Sangre just sent a wave of possessiveness, but there was also a sense of his surroundings: a flash of Jackie's fence and the sensation of airborne wolves, then grass under paws and  _ home _ .


End file.
